


The Blizzard of '68

by Lindzzz



Series: The Evil Boyfriends Series [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Evil Boyfriends, Fluff, Jack joins Pitch, M/M, Pitch is a pile of drama and Jack is a little shit, they argue like a married couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/pseuds/Lindzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pitch throws a sulking tantrum and Jack is having none of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blizzard of '68

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea I usually see where Pitch and Jack join up early on and it's dark and angsty and Pitch is a controlling manipulative bastard. But I wanted to play with the idea that the two of them are both good and bad for each other. And they form this weird, unhealthy and hilariously domestic codependent relationship built on a good foundation of snark and mutual understanding.
> 
> And lots of making out like a couple of ridiculous teenagers.

Easter, Pitch decides, is his least favorite holiday.

Of course his least favorite holiday is usually whichever one is currently closest. But Easter, he’s realized, is absolutely the worst. There is nothing that can be made scary about it in the slightest. At least Christmas is in the winter, where they can make everything difficult for all involved. Easter, on the other hand, is all bright colors and flowers and idiotic overgrown furballs who won’t shut. up. about hope and life and rebirth and other such nonsense.

And are far too quick to throw punches first and ask questions never. Pitch was doing his JOB. If a few kids come out of Easter weekend with a fear of rabbits then that’s all the better. It may not be the most glamorous set of nightmares he’s created, but he felt like he needed to do something before he went absolutely mad.

What he got for his troubles was a boomerang to the face and three hours trying to get various pastel, glittery powders out of his clothes while ignoring the distinct way the nothern wind was giggling.

So now that Easter Sunday is actually here he is quite content to curl up under a bed in the darkest, deepest and most desolate part of his lair and feel sorry for himself until next month.

Unfortunately not everyone got the memo and Pitch sinks deeper into the shadows with a snarl when he feels a cold draft come under the bed.

“Go. Away.”  
“Yeah yeah I know I know. You need your beauty-sulk. C’mere though. I got something for you.”

He is so completely and entirely NOT in the mood to play one of Jack’s games tonight and he lets that be known with a hiss that sounds like the writhing of a million angry snakes.

Jack is unfazed.

“God you’re like a cat you know? Hissing and scratching and skulking in dark corners. I bet you’d bite me if I actually tried to reach down there.”

He’s tempted.

“I said go. away. Jack. I’m not interested in whatever little trinket you’ve made this time.”

“Ouch. That hurts. Lucky for you I know my trinkets are awesome so my ego is just fine. Now come on, I seriously have something you’re gonna love. Think of it as an Easter present.”

“I hate Easter.”

“That’s the point Drama King. Don’t make me drag you out. Tell you what? I’ll give you to the count of three.”

The shadows darken and Pitch growls furiously. “I am not a child for you to order about! I’m the boogeyman!”

“That’s good for you, honey. One…”

“Jack.”

“Two.”

“Don’t you-“

“Three!”

Pitch’s snarl turns into an undignified shriek when the floor under him suddenly turns into slick ice and a gust of wind sends him sliding out across the room. He scrambles up as he hits the wall, pulling the dark around him and letting it fill every corner. He grows with the shadows, skin darkening till he’s barely discernible from the yawning abyss filling the room. His eyes turn into two burning yellow orbs as he lets out a screaming roar from the depths of hell, focusing every bit of his rage at the boy standing at the foot of the bed.

A hundred years ago it would have worked. Now Jack just looks bored.

“That’s very nice. One of your best ones so far.” He gestures at his own mouth and adds, “I like the thing with the teeth. Nice touch. You should use that one next time we see The Bird, she’ll have a fit.”

Jack smiles affably as Pitch shrinks back down to his normal height with a dark scowl. Maybe if he just glares and looms enough the brat will get the hint and leave.

Once again, however, Jack refuses to catch on. He grins brightly and skips forward, completely immune to the golden eyes trying to bore holes into his skull. “There’s my tall, dark, and broody Drama King! You all done now?”

“You are not funny.”

“I’m hilarious. And unendingly charming. Now come oonnn!” He grabs Pitch’s hand, practically dancing on the spot. Whatever he’s going on about certainly has him excited. He’s looking up at Pitch with those bright, adoring eyes that always end up getting the brat whatever he wants.

Not this time, Pitch thinks and he stubbornly glares at the wall instead. He refuses to give in that easily. The boy is spoiled rotten and Pitch refuses to cater to his every whim. This time he’s putting his foot down. He will not leave this cavern until every gaudy pastel egg is rotting and every bit of chocolate has become a stomach ache. 

He’s doing a fair job of working himself back up into an incredible sulk when the cold wood of Jack’s staff hooks around his neck and pulls his head down. He’s startled but certainly does not yelp, and tries to keep glaring into the full force of those bright blue eyes. The boy knows entirely too well what affect those eyes have and Pitch is on to him damnit.

Jack’s smile softens and he nudges Pitch’s forehead with his own. “Hey, come on. I promise it’ll be good. I worked really hard on this so you at least have to come see it. If you don’t like it I’ll let you wallow in your own misery by yourself for a month ok? Just trust me on this.”

He snorts, and is considering saying no just to be contrary when Jack sneaks a chilly kiss on his nose and grins at him. Pitch narrows his eyes, giving one last half-hearted glare before he sighs.

“Fine, what is it that you’re just dying to show me?” He rolls his eyes when Jack only pulls his staff away then and does his best to look as uninterested as possible when the boy grabs his hand and drags him from the shadows. Pulling him up and up towards the entrance.

He frowns when he sees a snowflake slowly drift down from the hole to his lair.

“Is that-“

Jack is nearly vibrating now and he grips Pitch’s hand tighter. He’s not even trying to keep his feet on the ground now as he tugs insistently. “Come on come on come on!!!”

Before Pitch can even mock his eagerness they’re both whisked up by the wind. He manages to keep his feet under him when they’re unceremoniously dropped onto the ground and he’s about to remind Jack how much he HATES that damn breeze when-

“Snow…?”

He stares out at the whirling maelstrom of snow and ice. The wind is screaming and bringing down huge flakes that make it almost impossible to see for more than five feet in any direction. Jack laughs twirls with his arms out in presentation, causing a small flurry of snow to swirl up around them.

“Snow!! Everywhere! Well, everywhere where I could make it snow. It was a bit hard closer to the equator but I still managed to kick up a good wind down there! But everywhere else is snow and ice!”

It’s Easter Sunday and Pitch couldn’t find an egg out here even if he tried. He doesn’t fight the slow grin that spreads over his face as he looks out at the howling blizzard. There is no way anyone could hunt anything out here. It’s an absolute disaster. A catastrophe. That overgrown jackrabbit has to be spitting nails down in his little warren.

“Oh you little devil.” He sighs. “You gorgeous, marvelous, horrible little demon! This is perfect!” He seizes Jack in his arms and spins them both around, grinning as the boy laughs in delight and throws his arms around him.

Jack’s smile is blinding, he’ll be proud of himself for years over this and it’s entirely worth it. Pitch swoops down and kisses him hard, tasting the laughter on his lips and crushing the small body to his own while the wind howls around them. They finally pull apart and Jack’s grin is even brighter now, cheeks flushed and a wicked gleam in his eyes as he tweaks Pitch’s nose.

“Happy Easter, Pitch.”

Pitch laughs and laughs can’t do anything but kiss him again and again.


End file.
